


Exceptional Leia

by inelegantprose



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, Domestic, F/M, Family, Feminism, Gen, Gender Issues, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-12-15 02:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11796516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inelegantprose/pseuds/inelegantprose
Summary: "You’re an incredibly impressive young woman, Leia. You have exceptional promise." An unexpected discovery on her son's first birthday sends Leia spinning into a crisis of identity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "I'd have a fic(let) request - from your Orbit verse (maybe), Leia getting pregnant just before/shortly after Ben's first birthday. I feel like you could do an amazing job on that haha (if you don't want to it's fine just thought I'd ask)." 
> 
> Background on Orbit is really not necessary – all you need to know is that they have the canonical Endor baby and that Leia has a bit of an identity crisis when he’s born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'd have a fic(let) request - from your Orbit verse (maybe), Leia getting pregnant just before/shortly after Ben's first birthday. I feel like you could do an amazing job on that haha (if you don't want to it's fine just thought I'd ask)." 
> 
> Background on Orbit is really not necessary – all you need to know is that they have the canonical Endor baby and that Leia has a bit of an identity crisis when he’s born.

“Ma-a-ama!”

“Hey Lei? Where’d you get off to?”

“Just a second!” she called, and she locked the ‘fresher door behind her before removing the home test from its ten-minute hiding place in the center of the tissue roll and held it in both of her hands and looked at it – and sat on the lid of the sani and looked at it – and pressed her lips together and looked at it – and shook it a bit and looked at it, and looked, and looked.

“ _Ma-_ ma…”

(And then Han’s voice, chattering to him, all animated and enthusiastic and distracting, probably swinging him around…)

This new thing – this talking thing – proving quite a –  _significant_ development, in their lives, in her life – being called, so transparently – and now, sitting here, looking at it, trying to look at it as Leia and hearing  _Mama, Mama_ – oh… trying to think about it as Leia, how Leia would feel –  _Mama! Ma-a-ama!_

Pregnant. Pregnant, again. Pregnant, again,  _now_. Again, now,  _today_ ––

“Sweetheart––?”

She swaddled – wrapped, wrong choice of words,  _wrapped_  – the test in tissue and shoved it into the waste basket beside her before washing her heads and calling quickly, “Coming!”

And then she was up and at it and  _on_  – striding out of the ‘fresher and clapping her hands together and sing-songing, “Hi, ‘loved, hi – don’t worry, I didn’t go far! I’m sorry!” before sweeping the baby out of Han’s arms and planting a kiss on his temple. “Didn’t go far – I didn’t go far!” Another kiss, bouncing him and beaming at him when he giggled and clapped. “How’re you doing, huh? Are you excited for your party? Baby?” A rush in her ears –  _baby-baby-baby_ … She shoved it way back. “Huh? Are you excited?

Han chuckled, leaning back on the couch, and she shot him a look. “Sorry I just – mm, Ambassador-Senator-General-Princess, such a fuckin’  _mommy_ , who would’ve thought…”

“I am not a  _mommy_.” She meant it to sound playful and as an afterthought she shifted the baby to her hip all dramatically, but it came out sounding just a bit sharp instead.  _I am not “such a fuckin’ mommy.” I cannot have become merely “such a fuckin’ mommy,” I…_

If Han noticed the sharpness, he didn’t indicate it, and instead gave her a cheeky grin. “Dunno – baby on your hip, kid-talk babble, baked a cake from scratch today…”

_Baby-baby-baby – mommy, such a mommy…_

“Flour smudged all over your pants….”

“Oh, sounds  _very_ glamorous,” Leia sing-songed to Ben, tapping his nose and trying to keep her voice light and sweet and even.  _On._  “What do you think? Does he like it? I think he likes it.”

And yes, there he was, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her small waist – kissing the baby’s head, earning a  _da-a-addy_ , and then pressing a hot kiss to her neck. Growling low, teasing, playful,  _“I love it.”_

Yes – he loved it, he loved it – and didn’t she love it too? Didn’t she love flicking red and blue dye into frosting she’d made herself and twirling it into purple – didn’t she love how it felt to sit in that chair he’d assembled with Ben in her lap, whispering the words to a board book and smiling soft as the baby eagerly pressed his fingertips to the pictures – feeling him fall asleep pressed up against her, his warm hand by her breast, hearing him whimper when she left a room like she was his world – didn’t she love the sound of  _screeching_ laughter from the ‘fresher when Han inevitably turned bathtime into an elaborate adventure?

She loved it, he loved it – and regardless – but regardless – another baby would… would what? Wasn’t she rushing to conclusions – and why did it feel like having another baby would be to say she was happy and if she didn’t she wasn’t… just because she loved being Ben’s mother didn’t mean she – another baby,  _now_  – and just because she loved Ben didn’t mean she loved being –  _“such a fuckin’ mommy,”_ what if she didn’t love being such a fuckin’ mommy, for months and months she had done everything  _but_  loved it, lived in a fog of purposelessness – she couldn’t, wouldn’t go back to that, she couldn’t…

Two babies was so different from one baby, it was so – being the mother – mama –  _mommy,_ ugh, what a  _word_ – to two babies was so different from being Leia Organa who also had a young son – and she was working so hard to find a way to be Leia Organa who also had a young son… another baby  _now,_ when her body had finally begun to feel like  _her_ body again, another baby –  _now_ …

He loved it, she was selfish, she felt sick. Was she going to be sick? She’d give away her hand if she got sick, and she needed to figure out exactly how she was going to tell Han before anything else.

Han.  _Han._ Arms still around her waist, content and simple, had only a second gone by? Arms – his hand on the spot on her waist above her right hip, his thumb moving back and forth ever so slightly on the nearby plane of her stomach –  _maybe not now right, not right now, nope, no, no, no_ ––

And then perfectly in sync, she and the baby straightened up and smiled faintly; a second later they heard the chime of the door. “That’ll be your uncle,” she said to him, all sunshine, her heart pounding hard,  _no-no, no-no, no-no,_ would pound  _pregnant_ if the emphasis were on the right syllable, and she could feel it pounding too when there they were, their meager collection of friends and family – Chewie, Luke, Wedge, Kirin, Carlist, a few other stragglers – around the plain cake with plain purple frosting and one candle, the baby on her hip, his fist holding tight to her hair, singing  _Happy birthday dear Be-en…_ She remembered all of her birthday cakes, towering, tiered concoctions with pure-white frosting and blue fondant flowers… the picture of her at her first birthday in some frilly white thing, cake all over her face, little curls at her ears, all laughs, her mother kissing her cheek, her father kissing the top of her head… her parents had been such parents, her life had been so full, she’d been given a life so full… her mother had carried so many children and she had never felt ambivalent about a single one of them…

“Ha-a-appy birthday to you!” She sang the last line in the baby’s ear and the tickle of her breath bringing back the smile that had faltered from being crowded. Sensitive, sensitive – her parents had been such parents,  _such a fuckin’ mommy_ … her baby, so sensitive… Leia Organa’s young son…

“Make a wish, buddy!”

“Ben, blow out the candle!”

Too much noise, again, and too much pressure – Ben’s face was back home against her neck, though she could feel the small, shy smile on his face. “Sweetie? Would you like to blow out your candle?” she murmured, and at her voice he pulled his face away. His eyes looking up at her beseechingly, their own little world so private, so perfect the way it was… “Blow it out with Mama, come on now.”

And to everyone’s delight, when she bent him over the two of them blew out the candle together, his eyes alight at the thrill of everyone else being pleased with him. She showered his face in kisses, hands holding him beginning to quiver – “You’re so big now! You’ve gotten so big!” And everyone saw that she loved him, that they were their own little world, and were pleased with them.

Later, sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch, chatting with Kirin and picking at the remains of her cake, she was longing for a drink – declining a glass of wine had been hopelessly difficult, she’d never needed a drink more than now, never ever. In fact, she was so busy longing for a drink that she hardly noticed the baby crawling rapidly across the floor from his uncle and father until Kirin laughed and called out, “Princess, I think you have a visitor!”

There he was, cake all over his face, smiling at her shy. Always like that – like he wasn’t sure she’d take him into her arms and hug him, like it was always such a pleasant, perfect surprise that she was his mother. “Oh! Hello!” she said, making her face a little parody of shock. “I missed you!”

And she brought him into her lap and kissed the top of his head and squirmed only a little when he stood up on her thighs to try to pry a lock of her hair from her tightly coiled braids – “Hold on, baby, here, here…” She carefully, fully unwound a piece of her hair from her left braided bun, the strands long enough to hit the floor when sitting, and Ben wound it around his left hand and curled up against her, content, while she went back to her conversation.

As she and Kirin chatted about diasporic feminist politics she could hear, on the other side of the room, Wedge and Han chatting as they attempted to assemble the as-always much-too-much gift Luke had procured for his nephew. (She was more of a coloring and wooden blocks type of mother, whereas Luke as an uncle seemed to know the latest baby-related gadget… was that because she’d grown up with everything and still enjoyed these more basic pursuits while Luke had spent his whole childhood coveting? But Han had had so little and he wasn’t big on flashiness either… maybe because he’d transported not-inexpensive crap for such not-inexpensive people… or…) Wedge then, not judgemental, just observant: “S’in a bit of a mommy phase, huh?”

She could hear Han snort but tried to keep her eyes on Kirin, on trying to wipe Ben’s face. “His whole life’s been one big mommy phase.”

“He’ll grow out of it,” Wedge said amicably.

“Yeah, we’re not worried. Dunno, I think it’s pretty cute.” She could hear, too, Han taking a swig of his beer, and she was certain her mouth was literally  _watering_ … a drink, a drink, a–– “S’pretty hard on Leia though.”

“Really? ‘Cause they seem like they’re their own little world.”

Han grunted. “She deserves to be able to use the ‘fresher with him on her ankle, or read a novel or whatever. Have a drink. Take a break.”

 _Have a drink! Have a drink… take a break…_  maybe he would understand? Maybe…

Take a break, she could use a break, but her mother had never taken a break, her mother had never longed for a drink. Her mother had carried so many children and she had never felt ambivalent about a single one of them…

“Either way. You guys seem like you’ve got it made.”

She could sense Han’s crooked, genuine smile even if she couldn’t see it. “Yeah? You think so?” Sounding optimistic and shockingly earnest.

“Yeah.” Wedge patting him on the back in that way men did. “Domestic bliss, all that? I uh…” Voice very low, then, but she’d always had excellent hearing, “I know it was rough for a bit there, but… you guys seem really, really happy.”

“Huh. Glad to hear that.” His casual, understated tone, his nonchalant tucked head. “S’all her. Amazing mom.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious.”

She leaned back so she was gazing at him from upside down, smiling at them, on, on, on. “Tha-ank you.” Kissing the baby’s hair as he squealed from being bent backwards, dipping him again so he practically screamed.  _Domestic bliss. Really, really happy. Amazing mom._  “Can you say that? Can you say ‘tha-a-a-ank you, Daddy’? Say ‘tha-a-a-ank you, Daddy’…”

“Tay Daddy! Ta-ay da –  _Mama_!” Rocking him almost all the way to upside down again, listening to him squeal. Her hands were shaking hard, her smile was huge. Was she overdoing it?

Han, for his part, snorted. “Sure you turned down that drink, sweetheart?” Yes, she’d overdone it.

“Just relishing in my  _domestic bliss_ ,” she said from upside down over the baby’s squeals, flashing him a sparkling smile.

Han frowned. She’d overdone it. “Careful, Lei. S’got a stomach full of birthday cake.”

She made a show of sighing and righting the two of them before scooping up the baby and standing up, collecting plates. “It was good, wasn’t it?”

Chewie roared his agreement, and Luke called out, “So good, Leia! Where’d you learn to bake like that? You’re amazing.”

“Oh, it’s actually a recipe in the Mommy Handbook?” she said, bopping Ben on the nose for his attention and then counting into his ear –  _one, two, three…_ – each plate she picked up. “Yes, right when you give birth, they present you with this very extensive flimsi, everything you need to be just the  _perfect_ housewife – sorry,  _homemaker_. And you know, it was apparently quite a hassle for them to find me on a remote military base, but they did manage it…” Her voice had come out a bit sharper than she intended, and it showed on everyone else’s faces… oh…

“Alright, alright, point taken. It was really good though.”

“Thank you,” she said tightly –  _four, five…_  all of this bending and dipping was not agreeing with her stomach – “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”  

She managed to hold off on vomiting until everyone had cleared out, but when she did it was spectacular: kneeling as the baby cried for her outside the door, staring at awful purple liquid cake chunks, upchucked remains of the icing she’d dyed so carefully his favorite hue. It took her a second to realize she was crying – soundlessly, maybe just from the acid taste and ache in her throat, but there were definitely a few hot tears running down her face, then more than a few.

“Sweetheart?” A few hard raps on the door. “Y’alright in there?”

“Fine!” She gagged again and whimpered. She could feel the wrapped-up, not-swaddled test in the bin like it had a Force presence, burning in the back of her brain, searing her.  _Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant –_ the emphasis on the wrong syllable, a heartbeat in reverse, skipped up, all panicked. Pregnant, wife – wife, mommy – mommy, babies – babies, two babies, two babies before she turned twenty-six. Telling High Command – telling  _Mon_  – that she’d need another leave. Looking in Mon’s eyes and telling her she’d have two babies before she was twenty-six –  _you’re an incredibly impressive young woman, Leia._ Not that there was anything wrong with that – with having two babies back to back, so young. For other people, maybe. _You have exceptional promise._ Asking for another leave – another leave, and before that the exhaustion, the unwieldiness, the inability to fly. To be taken seriously as a diplomat by foreign powers. But she had never been other people.

“Ma- _a_ -ma…”

“Leia?” More raps. “You sick?”

“The cake – the cake didn’t agree with me,” she called back, struggling to keep her voice composed. She wiped her mouth, flushed the sani, and brushed her teeth quickly. “I think the Mommy Handbook listed the recipe wrong…”

He was right outside the door when she opened it, the increasingly anxious baby on his hip, frowning and suspicious. “You okay? You want some water?”

“I’m fine.” She met Ben’s eyes and forced a smile. “Hi, ‘loved, don’t worry, I didn’t go far – hey, did you get that thing from Luke all set up?” And she held out her arms expectantly for the baby.

Instead, Han shifted Ben to his other hip, bouncing him a little.“Yeah, we did – you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m really fine – you were right, it was all that rocking.” Smiling at the baby again, a little desperately. “All that rocking, right honey? Guess you can hold your cake better than I can.”

She held out her arms again and this time he passed her the baby, who immediately wrapped the same lock of hair tightly around his hand. She held him close and walked over to the couch.  _Pregnant. Pregnant. Promise. Pregnant._ She sat down and clutched the baby, let him press his face to her neck and hold too tight to her hair…  _Exceptional promise. Mommy. Amazing mother. Exceptional mommy._

“Princess…” Han’s voice, softer now. More awkward, too. He was lingering in the entrance to the room, looking at her. “Were you – um. You look like you’ve been crying.”  

“Me?” Her voice sounded strangled. “No. No.”

He moved slowly, casually, but then he was sitting beside her, real concern on his face. “Something’s wrong.”

She smiled at him as Ben continued to thread his fingers through her hair, slowly unraveling the fronts of the braids into some soft frizzy nest. “Nothing’s wrong, honey.”

“Yes it is. You’re lying to me.”

“Nothing is wrong.” And she held Ben tighter and willed herself to believe it. “I – nothing is  _wrong_ , Han.”

“Leia, you’re spooking me––”

She shut her eyes and whispered it into the baby’s hair.  _I think I might be pregnant again._

“What was that?”

“I think I might be pregnant again.” Her lips an inch above Ben’s head, her eyes open but focusing on the baby’s hair intensely. What would she do when he could understand her? Who would she whisper her secrets to?

She could feel Han take a deep breath. “Is that so,” he said, very slow, even and unreadable as ever.

“I mean I’m not sure but… I did take a home test.”

“I thought you had––”

“I did. I mean, I do. I mean, presumably it’s still – in there, but.”

She looked up at him, finally. He was looking at her thoughtfully. “But,” he echoed.

She shrugged slowly and he smiled a little bit at her and kissed her softly, lingering there. Lips so close to hers. Looking at her eyes closely as if by looking close enough he could read her mind. He wasn’t the first to try.

She broke first and flicked her eyes down to where the baby had fallen asleep against her, hand still clutching tight to her hair. She kissed the top of his head, she couldn’t stop doing that, it felt so right, it felt so…

He exhaled again and put his arm around her lightly. “Huh.”

Leia looked up. “Is that all you’re going to say?” Her voice sounded hoarse, too needy.

His mouth twitched. “S’this why you were crying?”

“I wasn’t –  _crying_ , I was––”

“Sweetheart, look, just––”

“I wasn’t crying. I wasn’t.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t – I wouldn’t cry.”

He nodded slowly and the inside of her head was screaming  _Say something! Say something!_ At them both, at either of them, really –  _somebody, say something!_

She stroked Ben’s back and tried to make an improbable return to the land of sleep schedules and mothering. “Oh… he must be so exhausted…” Shifting a bit – “I wouldn’t want us to wake him. I’ll go put him down.”  _And then get into bed and put a pillow over my head and close my eyes for seventeen hours…_

“I got it.”

“No, it’s fine, I––”

“S’lifting, Lei.”

“Oh.” She felt something collapse inside of her. What would she do if she couldn’t carry him? What would she carry?

He took the baby from her gently, still watching her as she worked to pry his fingers from her hair, and headed off to Ben’s bedroom. She regretted this immediately, felt so exposed without him splayed across her lap.  _Mommy, mommy._   _Exceptional promise._

She could hear Han murmuring in the other room to the sleepy child, reassuring him back into sleep. A part of her wished he would pick her up, too, and put her to bed, promise everything was alright, let her sleep easy for so many hours. A pillow over her head for just in case she started crying.

Then he was back, sitting close to her, hand on her knee, thumb stroking, looking at her.

“Did he give you trouble?” she asked softly.

“Mm-mm. No trouble.” His voice soft, too. Gentle, cautious.

“Good.” Then she bit her lip and said nothing.

After a moment: “So. You wanna tell me how long you’ve known?”

“Just today, just – earlier, just before the party – I – my period, and I just. Had a hunch.”

He nodded slow. “Uh-huh. And do you know how far––?”

“Not far along I don’t think.”

Another nod, slower still. Watching her very, very cautiously before saying, “So there’s still a lotta – options, then.”

Her hands immediately flew up to her face and then his arms were tight around her, holding her close, whispering frantically, “Hey-hey-hey, no-no-no, no, hey – just ‘cause you seem so  _spooked_ , sweetheart, hey, that’s the only reason I would  _ever_  suggest – hey, hey-hey, I love you, shh…” Rocking her gently… “Shh, Leia, shh…”

“I’m fine,” she insisted into his shirt, her throat tight, her voice strangled. “I’m fine, I’m just – feeling a little – emotional, is all. You’re right, I am a bit – spooked.” She pulled back away from him and rubbed her eyes. “But I’m fine. Really.”

“We uh – we don’t have to talk about this right now, alright?” This voice, then, the tip-toeing voice, the I-don’t-wanna-set-you-off voice, the one for when he didn’t think she was being rational but wanted her to feel she was being taken seriously. “You must be – you’re probably feeling like shit, we just had a bunch of people over – can go lie down, I’ll finish cleaning up.”

“How do you know I’m still feeling like shit?” She said it very delicately, all stiffness and angles.

He shrugged. “Dunno, last time it’d hit you bad this part of the day, at the start, so.”

 _Last time._ Right _._ A little under two years ago. She’d been pregnant or the mother of a less-than-year-old baby for almost two years. She would be pregnant or the mother of a less-than-year-old baby for another two years.

“I don’t know how you can stand it,” she said suddenly, looking anywhere but at him. “Not knowing where I’m at – I feel like I’m going to  _explode_.”

“Explode…?”

“Waiting. To know. Where you’re at.”

“Didn’t realize you were – waitin’ for something.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Han, I told you that I’m – that we might have another child, I guess I was waiting to hear whether that appealed to you or not,” she snapped, almost without realizing it.

He was trying  _very_ hard to be patient, she could tell. “Of course that  _appeals_  to me – love you, love Ben, I’d love – any kid that ended up joining us, I – feel like that’s sort of a given. Feel like you know that.”

“So you’d – you think we should…?” She swallowed and looked at him evenly. “You think we should have another baby.”  

“S’not…” He shook his head. “I – hm. I just. I feel like the question isn’t do-we-want-another-kid-or-not, it’s…”

“Now,” she supplied easily, and he frowned and shook his head slightly like she was sort-of, not quite right… was she being crazy? Was it not so soon? A little under two years apart, that was – fairly normal, she supposed? Was this a thing women did, this four year commitment to babies inside them or clinging to them, was she crazy, did he think she was crazy?

(Babies inside them – immediately she felt that old rush of fear she’d had almost two years ago, the one about genetics and twins,  _twins_ …)

“Yeah, that,” Han was saying, “and also that – last time – ” She wished he’d stop saying that,  _last time, last time_ , as if there were a whole litany of times she’d been pregnant to which he might be referring, “Last time was really – hard. On you.” Before she could react he’d plowed ahead, continuing, “And now with Ben and this whole Mommy thing, it just seems like, for you – I mean the kid can barely stand you putting him down––”

“Hard on me?”

He looked surprised at her surprise. “Yeah, like – physically I mean. Physically.” Tripping over his words to correct himself as her mouth pressed into a firm line.  _Right so physically and then also there was that three or four month period of crippling depression immediately after his birth._ “I mean you were –  _real_ sick, during the first part, and then  _fuck_ the whole thing when he was born… when they weren't sure if you'd pull through, I just...” He shook his head.

“Right,” she said tightly.  _Hard on me. Crazy. Four years. Mommy. Exceptional. Exceptional mommy._

“I mean that was…” Shaking his head again. “ _Fuck_  Leia, I’ve never been so scared, I…  _shit_.”

“Right,” she repeated.

“So with that, I just…”

“Well, I don’t know.” Her voice was tense, broken, not her own. “I mean, don’t let me get in your way… I would hate to feel like I’m –  _depriving_  you of something, I…”

“Hey, don’t go twisting my words like that, you  _know_ that’s not what I said.”

“No, I just – if I knew your – reservations were something as small as ‘hard on me,’ I’d––”

“Leia, just quit it.”

“I’m not trying to be cruel, I’m being serious. I want to know what you’re thinking and feeling, this was – helpful for me, I’m sorry if I gave an impression otherwise, I really am, Han, really.” She kissed his cheek quickly and tried to look genuine. “I really… I’m really – flattered – I’m moved, I think. That you would want to have more children with me.”

He gave her a funny look, looking completely taken aback. “‘Course I would. You’re my wife, and I love you.”

Suddenly her face felt very hot and her throat very tight.  _I would. You’re my wife. I love you. I love you so I would. I would if I loved you. If I loved you, I would._ She cleared her throat. “I… I think I’m going to take you up on your offer. To finish cleaning up, so I can lie down for a little while. If that’s still okay?”

“‘Course it is.” He kissed her forehead warmly, soothingly. “We’ll figure this out, alright? Love you so much.”

She kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand and forced a weak, watery small and hoped he believed it. “And I you.”  _‘Course I would. You’re my wife. I love you. I would, I love you. I love you, I know. I love you, I would._ And slipped out of the room and into their bed. And willed herself to fall asleep for seventeen hours and wake up Leia Organa and know what to do. And tugged the covers up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut and placed his pillow over her head, just in case she cried. And willed herself to fall asleep for seventeen hours and wake up Leia Organa and know what to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per your request – our story continues, and will probably wrap up in 3 parts. The rating goes up to M here, for sexual content.

He hadn’t been there for the first time, last time, and sitting there he almost felt like he shouldn’t be there now if only because she looked so – different. Perched on the patient’s chair from which her feet, clad only in thick white socks, couldn’t hit the ground, her skinny legs poking out of the oversized paper gown like stray wires, her hair improbably pulled into double buns not quite the ones she’d worn when they’d met but pretty damn close. Trying to look dignified and serious, her expression all mild interest and unperturbed, but mostly looking like she was drowning. It had been different, when he had gone with her last time, because she wasn’t in a gown then and was also, you know, visibly pregnant, didn’t look so much like a  _ patient _ , like someone awaiting bad news. A grim diagnosis, a few months to live. They weren’t awaiting bad news, though. Not  _ really _ … nothing like  _ that _ … 

Her chair way too big and his too small, his legs splayed out awkwardly, his fingers drumming on his knees, impatient and uncomfortable. Letting out a noisy, peeved sigh. She looked over at him and raised her eyebrows mildly, swinging her legs with nervous energy. Pointing and flexing her tiny sock-clad feet like an athlete restlessly warming up for a sprint. Fiddling with those damn double buns… were they her lying-about-where-she-was-going ‘do or something? Asking Luke to watch the baby while they went to “an appointment” something like being  _ on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan!  _ – rebel plans inconveniently tucked inside her? 

He jerked his chin slightly. “Haven’t seen those in a while.” 

“Oh… no… these are different… braided, actually...” she said faintly, fidgeting anxiously.  

He grunted in response, then frowned as she stiffened and let a few fingers fly up to cover her lips. “Need a trashcan?” 

She frowned. “I think… no, I think it’s passed…” 

“Sorry.” 

“Oh, it’s fi––...” she started, then trailed off and sat straight up when the curtain opened and the physician strolled in. He found himself sitting up, too, then standing, and then beside her, quicker than he realized, leaning still languidly against the chair, his grip on it rigid and tense. Protective. 

And then, with a big smile and without any preamble: “Congratulations, princess – you are definitely pregnant.” 

_ Kriff,  _ he would think later,  _ read a fuckin’ room _ –  but in that moment he found himself ducking down to Leia’s level and grabbing her face and kissing her hard – hard enough that she was caught off guard and had her eyes open, wide and surprised, and mostly just let him kiss her, vulnerable in his arms. He pulled back slightly so his forehead was resting against hers, his hands still on either side of her face, searching her eyes – she looked… surprised, almost  _ dumbfounded _ by his reaction… how could he  _ not  _ – even if they didn’t keep the kid, even if she wasn’t pregnant in two weeks, right now she  _ was  _ – with  _ his  _ – how could he not? 

 Leia was flicking her eyes, then, and tilting her head, and clearly a tad uncomfortable – though maybe a bit thrilled? Was he right there, in reading that? – with this forehead-touching hands-on-her-face closeness, and he cleared his throat and released her face, looking back to the doctor but sneaking glances at Leia. She looked – tense, there was no doubt about it. Tense and confused, shaken. Drawn, unnerved, caught off guard, lonely... Looking younger than he’d seen her in a while. He wanted to kiss her again, kiss her hair and her forehead and all over her face, whether she liked it or not, he didn’t know why, he hadn’t felt like this last time – it was sort of freaking him out – it wasn’t like he was so desperate or even so enthusiastic or even  _ remotely _ set on her having this kid, yeah, it was not about a baby, it was kind of more about – Leia, Leia… this flood of affection for her, even as she looked pale and serious, he didn’t know where it came from, felt kind of primal, almost – Leia, his wife, his baby,  _ Leia _ …   

Caught the tail-end of whatever the doctor was saying to her. “––figure out how far along you are, but first let’s get that implant out.” 

He stepped back automatically to duck out  – IUD retrieval felt a little bit past his purview – but Leia sat up and opened her mouth to speak, and then the physician said, “He can stay, if you’d like. It’ll just take a second.”  

She was looking at him with her lips parted, eyes widened with  _ asking _ ,  _ wanting _ , letting him  _ help _ and he nodded and said casually, “Sure, sounds good” and received a small appreciative smile in turn, a break in all that tense, self-sacrificing lonely resolve painted all over her face. Thought  _ mm, that feels nice.  _ After feeling so much disconnect for so, so long – lying in bed with her these past few nights and her seeming so far away, squirming and uncomfortable, flat-out rejecting any of his attempts to make things easier on her, he practically had to grab Ben to keep her from carrying him around. And she didn’t want him to go… Is that what she felt like all the time? He didn’t mind it so much… 

But then she was scooting down on the chair and spreading her legs and, as per usual, trembling as she did so… her fingers fluttering against the arms of the chair, her grip on them tight, white-knuckled. He frowned and glanced towards her feet, grimaced at the array of objects on the tray the doctor had set up. Frowned again and rubbed her forearm lightly, sighing.  _ Leia, Leia…  _ this girl of his… 

Woman, he corrected, woman – one of the things that made her most mad, when people referred to grown women as girls – he tried to explain it wasn’t a deliberate choice so much as slang but she held to it –  _ it sets a certain tone,  _ she’d say,  _ it breeds a culture of disrespect and delegitimization. It’s like on Hoth, when I was constantly being asked to take notes in meetings I was supposed to be leading. _

Girl, woman – alright, this  _ woman  _ of his, this  _ woman  _ – it’s just that sometimes she felt so – well – and it’s not like he was particularly troubled by the age gap, though every once in awhile he’d remember it and it’d catch him by surprise – it was more how she could still shock him with it, seem awfully vulnerable, make him feel like an asshole, make him feel so  _ bad _ for her, make him feel so––

“Alright, so you’re going to feel some pressure…”

“Hm!”  An ugly squeak escaping, her chin jerking up, he pressed his lips together firmly and kept stroking her arm in a way he hoped was somewhat soothing. Leia who didn’t want him to go – he took it back, he took it all back, he’d rather not be close to her if she didn’t have to hurt, she didn’t want him to go because she knew she would panic, because of everything that had happened to her,  _ Kriff _ , he’d rather her distant and not so vulnerable, not squirming in discomfort. 

So vulnerable – was this why she didn’t – want this, again – was this why – having her body so – looking so – squeaking like this, being – typical Leia, not concerned about how she’d almost – died was too strong, but almost – made him  _ way, way more scared than he’d been before  _ – but that making him so scared made her feel vulnerable. Leia holding the naked baby as her blood pressure soared, so concerned with looking weak rather than the way her breath was slowing,  _ fuck _ ––

“Is that painful?”

“It’s – fine…” she ground out, her chin jerking further. He could watch it cycling through her face – pain into panic into pain into panic… maybe this was why… if she could just let  _ go _ for ten seconds she’d realize – well also – it was him, it was  _ him _ , what, she was so afraid to look vulnerable in front of  _ him _ ? 

But she’d wanted him to stay so clearly she wasn’t… right…? 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s a bit uncomfortable… it’s the density of the scar tissue here, it’s just...”

He felt sick at the words – density, holy  _ hells  _ – but Leia just let out something like a grimacing laugh, gasping out, “Right – of  _ course  _ it is _ … ah... _ ” Like it was an inside joke,  _ damn scar tissue! At it again!  _

“Just a  _ little _ wider…” 

_ Fuck _ , density of the  _ scar tissue _ , holy fucking–– “Mmph –  _ hmmm _ ... _ ”  _ Her face was totally screwed up, chin trembling – pain into panic, panic into pain...

“ _ And _ it’s out.” Pulling back and squeezing Leia’s foot, her voice now warm and gentle, almost like she were talking to a child. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be here…“Princess? It’s out, it’s over.” Smiling kindly and apologetically, giving her toes another sympathetic squeeze. This rapporte – how often did Leia see a damn gynecologist? Though between what had happened and then birth control and the pregnancy and the birth and after… gods, her kriffin’  _ body _ … “It’s out – you did it.” 

Han kissed the top of her head lightly, holding his lips there maybe a second too long –  _ Leia, Leia  _ – and still she shook. “I’m so... sorry…” she gasped out, breathing a little heavily, “for being such a – high maintenance – patient…” 

“It’s not a problem in the slightest, I only wish it didn’t have to be so uncomfortable.” 

“Ha, me too…” Turning to Han, then, flushing and mortified, “Sorry, I’m so sorry…”

He frowned at her, stroked her arm. “What’re you sorry to me for?” 

“Right, I… right… I…” Still breathing heavy – this woman, this Leia, Leia who’d had a baby at twenty-four, Leia with the narrowest hips, fuck, shit… when she’d gone alone, last time, panicked and paralyzed, had she been alright? Fuckin’ –  _ brutal _ … “Is there any reason – I mean – is there any explanation, for why it might be – might have been – defective…?” 

“Unfortunately, the thing about ninety-nine percent effectiveness is the resulting surprise for one in every hundred people. Consider yourself exceptional, Your Highness.” 

“Exceptional,” Leia echoed in a deadpan, as if laughing at some grim, private joke. “But that doesn’t imply… I mean, it wouldn’t be because of any kind of… hormonal…?”

“I think it’s safe to assume such an event would be unlikely to occur again under the same method, yes. We can do your vitals now, if you’d like a break before the ultrasound.”

“Oh, let’s get the difficult parts finished up now.” 

“The pay-off on this one is much better, I promise. Legs again, Your Highness, please, thank you. I’ll go slow, yes?”

“I really am sorry,” she was saying again, looking up at him and chewing on her lip as she adjusted herself, “This is so mortifying, I didn’t…” 

“Don’t know if you recall, but I was around when a kid came out of there. Takes a bit more to shock me.” He made a show of raising his eyebrows, determined to keep talking once he realized it was distracting her from what, as far as he could tell from the grimaces washing over her face, was a not-too-comfortable experience happening between her legs. She chuckled faintly, her chin jerking just a bit. He lowered his voice and looked at her seriously. “It’s your body, princess. Never a hassle.”

“Well. Defective IUD certainly isn’t as thrilling as a baby,” she said, brushing the moment off. “Nor nearly as cute.”

“Hear it can lead you down a similar path though.”

“Oh it can, can it.”

“If you let it. Takes a couple months.”

“How many, exactly?”

He tilted his head to the monitor. “S’what we’re here to find out, Your Worship.”

“Ah. Understood.” Her voice serious but her eyes twinkling a little, grimaces gone. He’d done it, then – distracted her successfully, soothed her through this – helped her, he could still do that, could still––

“And… that’s your baby.” 

Leia turned her attention to the monitor, and he watched her head tilt and her lips part slightly before he turned, too. 

“Well, would you look at that,” he heard himself exhale, and she nodded, her expression something like a sweet and sad and above all private smile.

“He or she is not quite baby-shaped yet, but you can see the head here… feet…”

And then her head was resting against his upper arm, and she was folding her hand into his and giving it a little squeeze as she nodded along to the doctor’s narration, trying to appear focused. He couldn’t help himself, he kissed her hand once, twice. Found himself pointing and asking, “An’ that’s the––?”

“Yes, that’s the heart beating… it’ll be too early to hear it today, but you should be able to next time.”

Leia pressed her lips together, then began, “How many weeks, do you think––?”  

“Based on my measurements I’d say probably around nine.” 

He watched as Leia jerked back. “ _ Nine _ ?”

“Does that come as a surprise? That’s still  _ very _ early.” 

“I don’t know, I would’ve thought I might’ve… that’s two cycles, I just––” 

“Last time you weren’t in until around…”

“Eleven, I know – I just thought. Well.” She sighed and composed herself. “Well. I don’t know what I thought.”

“Nine weeks still gives you a very legitimate window in which to consider other options – what we can do here is a bit limited, but I’d be happy to go into more detail about where––”

“That’s alright,” Leia said politely, giving a curt smile. “We haven’t yet – come to any conclusions, but that’s research I’ve already undertaken on my own anyway.”

He felt himself growing rigid and cold as her words washed over him – not the content so much as the way she said it – like she had this all figured out, like…

“Forgive me, Princess, I didn’t realize you were so undec––”

“Please. It’s not an issue,” she said kindly before turning her attention back to the monitor. “Nine, then?”

“Yes, based on measurements and then also factoring in that your son was consistently in the uppermost quartile in terms of length…” 

At the mention of Ben, she smiled genuinely. “Yes, he’s always been tall. Takes after his father. Hmm, nine, okay…” 

He still felt. Cold. Tense. A bit – humiliated, honestly? Like a fool – how she’d let him kiss her like that, so unabashedly eager and nervous and thrilled, even when he wasn’t sure himself, how he’d worried over her, and all this time she’d been, what, on her datapad reading up on how and where to put this behind them? 

“Would you like me to send you a copy of this?”

Leia, then, looking up at him, all inquisitiveness and composure and manufactured warmth. “Han?” 

He shrugged brusquely, jaw set tight. 

“I think we’re okay for now,” Leia said gently, her eyes still on him, confused and questioning. 

“Great, so let’s move on and get blood and vitals...”

He watched in a tense daze as she was measured and pricked, breaking through only to murmur halfheartedly to coax her through the needle… she turned predictably white and brought a few warning fingertips to her forehead but thankfully didn’t pass out. So there was that. Small victories, of not feeling totally impotent. 

What he did listen to: Leia, changing back into her clothes, frowning through an increasingly tense conversation about preventative measures against Pre-eclampsia Round 2. He didn’t follow all of it but he could tell Leia was –  _ annoyed  _ at the prospect of taking it easy, and even moreso at the prospect of monitoring her blood pressure on a weekly basis –  _ no one has a baby ‘cause it’s all convenient, princess,  _ he couldn’t help himself from thinking it – and he could only even consider if he knew she’d be  _ fine  _ – “That seems a bit – excessive,” she was saying, her chin high and her face flush with irritation. “But even if I conceded on that point – we’re supposed to be relocating soon, for my work – surely something as simple as blood pressure could be easily monitored just about anywhere, correct?”

The physician was frowning as if in genuine confusion – surprise, too.  _ You must not know Leia, then _ , he thought, rolling his eyes internally. “I suppose, but in the case that the monitoring finds something problematic, you’ll want to be somewhere with competent obstetricians… where were you planning on heading…?” 

“A – rural outpost with resources of interest to the New Republic that’s also in need of modern communication infrastructure, it’s for three months, and then we’ll probably move again, I…” Leia looked a bit lost, her features stiffening further as she withdrew into herself, lost in thought.  

“Well, we can discuss this at your next appointment – this really shouldn’t be a source of stress. We know you have a predilection for this condition, we’ll monitor it closely, and we’ll take appropriate action if need be. In many ways the approach is, in theory at least, no different from what I’d recommend for, say... postpartum depression.” 

He watched as Leia’s jaw dropped slightly, and then she closed her mouth, eyes flashing, lips pressed together tight. “Right. Of course. Thank you – so much. For. Your time.” 

Striding back to their unit, of course, she made her displeasure  _ abundantly _ clear: “I cannot believe she would say that – and to my  _ face _ ! It’s so incredibly presumptuous. I can’t even imagine what would possess a person...” Throwing her bag onto the kitchen table, wrestling out of her jacket, peeved and frenetic. 

For his part, he picked up the jacket and the bag and hung them up silently, taking off his own coat as well.

“Everyone – _everyone_ – goes through an adjustment period after having a child and just because mine was a bit more high-profile – not even my adjustment period! Just my having a child! – well, it doesn’t mean that you can just make all kinds of _assumptions_ about – I mean do I have a sign, or else is it written somewhere between my legs, then, maybe spelled out in the scar tissue down there? – that I want your pseudo-psychiatric diagnostic advice for having been a bit worn out after having a baby? Because if so, I’d like to know about it.” 

“Think she was just trying to help, sweetheart,” he offered half-heartedly, going to make himself a cup of kaffe. 

“Oh, could you not?” she said immediately, giving him an annoyed look. “At least wait until we’re finished talking, I’ll go into the other room or something, I’m too envious, I’ll just seethe at you the whole time you sip.”

“Sure. Fine. You want tea or something?” 

“I’m so revved up now I’ll surely drop the mug, my hands are –  _ ooh _ , I’m so  _ peeved  _ – and all this surprise, that I might be moving – I mean, do we look like people who have nothing better to do than loll around on a military base and do other people’s paperwork and pop out babies?”

He twitched his mouth as he sat down on the couch, but said nothing.

“But going back, this whole – I just can’t even believe – it’s not like I was sitting here  _ moping _ , I was – I mean, with all of the complexity of the – connectivity, between him and I, and then leaving my job, and being married… I think it’s understandable that I wasn’t – myself, at first, I––”

“I mean yeah, that’s – what that is,” he said, his voice a little dull. “Right?”

“What?”

“Changes and – the baby and – being home – that’s – that’s like, what – postpartum depression is, yeah?”

She had stiffened rather abruptly. “You think I had postpartum depression?”

He was looking at her closely, frowning, skeptical. “Uh… you… did…”

“I did.” Her voice warning, flat.

“You would –  _ cry _ about feeling lonely and – depersonalized and what? –  _ hating  _ yourself, princess, Kriff, you tell me what that sounds like.” 

She had crossed her arms, then, and was staring him down. “I had – major, major – adjustments to make in terms of my sense of self, I wasn’t  _ hormonal _ ––”

“Didn’t say that, said––” 

“I don’t need this from you. I don’t know why you’re doing this to me, especially right  _ now _ .”

“What  _ exactly _ am I doin’ to you right now, sweetheart?”

“Diagnosing me with some – I can’t even  _ believe _ you would – postpartum – whatever, it’s – hormones, it’s all – you might as well tell me I’m PMSing right now, I – except oh goodness, I’m  _ not _ , I haven’t been in two months apparently,  _ obviously _ ––”

“Did you start doin’ research on ‘other options’, Lei?”

She seemed genuinely caught off guard. “What?”

“Y’said – back there, you told the doctor or whatever, that you started – researchin’. Places you’d go, to end it.” 

“I… we said we were going to talk about it. That we hadn’t decided.”

“S’my point.”

“So I wanted to get more information, towards that decision. Why is that a problem?”

He shrugged a bit savagely. “Just – gods, Leia, you made me look like a – fuckin’  _ moron _ in there.”

“What could you possibly be talking about?”

“Kissin’ you like that, holdin’ you – and then you’re actually readin’ up on where to get an abor––?”

“So, what?” she snapped, her voice rising in pitch. “If I even consider terminating I don’t deserve to be kissed by my husband? I don’t deserve to be held?”

“ _ No,  _ gods, of course not, just –  _ Kriff _ , Leia––”

“No matter what we do I’m still  _ pregnant _ , Han, I’m still  _ currently pregnant _ , I feel, physically,  _ awful _ , I––”

“Yeah I  _ know _ that – you’re the one who’s set on pretendin’ none of this is––”

“I make you feel stupid? For not being fully on board, immediately, with having another baby, right at this moment? That makes you feel like a moron, Han?”

“Don’t you twist my words like that,” he snapped, pointing at her. “S’not at all what I said and you damn well know it.”

“Why are you  _ yelling _ at me?”

He dropped the finger, exhaling loudly, arms crossed. “M’not – that’s not – Leia, you  _ told  _ me you wanted more kids!”

She jerked back from him, her face red and tight and furious. “When did I say that.” 

“You  _ did  _ – when you – back when you were pregnant with Ben, you said that, you said––”

“What did I say.”

“ _ Fuck _ , princess, you  _ did  _ – you said you could see it, us with like – doesn’t even matter, but – an’ you were talking about Luke, what that – relationship or whatever, meant to you, now – said you couldn’t  _ imagine  _ life without a sibling now, you––”

“I didn’t mean  _ now _ , I meant – I don’t know – maybe I was thinking, like – maybe in my mid- _ thirties _ , I––!”

He let out a single laugh, staring at her in disbelief. “In your mid– _ thirties _ ? Got some news for you, Your Worship – in ten years I’ll be  _ fifty _ ! When that kid’s ten, I’d be  _ sixty _ !” 

“So, what?” she cried out, laughing too, a mean, ugly laugh. “So, I’m supposed to put everything I’ve worked for – my whole  _ life _ – completely on hold, just because you wasted so much of yours? You don’t want a baby at fifty so I have to have one at twenty-five?” 

He jerked back almost violently, then threw up his arms: “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but  _ this is your life!  _ Alright? You’re not puttin’ your life on hold for me, for Ben – this _ is _ your life!” He scowled at her, shaking his head and turning towards the door. “You don’t wanna be a mom at twenty-five? S’a little late for that, ‘cause this is your  _ life _ , Leia,  _ fuck _ – I’m just sorry it’s been such a goddamn disappointment!”  

“Where are you going?” Her voice rising in pitch again, becoming almost frantic. “Don’t go, oh please don’t go.”

“Just goin’ to get your kid, princess, calm down,” he said gruffly, not looking at her and reaching for his things.

“My life hasn’t been a disappointment, Han – you and Ben haven’t been a disappointment.” Her arms snaking around his back desperately, clinging to him. “I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t!” 

He tried to shrug her off, his voice still low and angry. “S’fine, alright? Just – fuckin’ forget it.”

“It’s not fine – I love you so much – don’t you know that? Please? Han, don’t you know…” Kissing his sides, then, his back, wherever she could reach from behind him, hands stroking up and down his arms, then running over his chest, her hips moving against him. “I do, I’m happy, I swear, I’m happy… I love you, I love our lives––”

“Do ya?”

“I do, I do... I’m happy – I love you, I love being with you…”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I love being with you – ... I love  _ being  _ with you…”

“‘ _ Being  _ with me,’ princess?” he almost growled, amusement at the euphemism tinging his voice. 

“I  _ love _ it… please, believe me, I love it, I––” 

He could practically hear her gasping against his lips when he whipped around and caught her in his arms and kissed her hard, almost punishingly – her fingers threaded through his hair and grabbed onto it, holding tight – she was kissing him back just as hard, insistently, one leg inching towards swinging around his waist, then it was up, then the other, her ass in his hands, he was carrying her over to the kitchen table and setting her down at its edge…

And she was gasping out as he nipped at her neck, sucking hard, biting, marking it up, “I love you, I promise, I love you, I’m happy…”

Growling as he reached to tug off her pants, “You swear?” 

Her head tilted back, her voice quavering, her breath coming hard, “I swear, I swear…” Vulnerable, vulnerable, all for him, all his… 

He hadn’t done anything like this with her in a while – rough, fast like this, yanking down her panties too, kneeling on the floor and catching her thighs in his hands to push them apart easily. “You love this?”

“Yes, I love it, I –  _ oh _ ––!” 

His mouth on her, then, slick and fast and unrelenting, hands tight on her thighs and holding them wide and in place, grunting and moving ever deeper, driving her to orgasm without preamble – he could hear her, vaguely, crying out – she loved him, she loved it, she was sorry, she loved him… not in a while, not like this, angry and punishing and her so wanton, so emotional, so  _ loud  _ – her hands behind her, keeping her upright, her back thrust into an arch, still wearing her oh-so-proper blouse, her oh-so-princessy double buns,  _ begging  _ for him – “I love you, I love it – oh  _ gods _ ...”

As she came down from her release he made quick work of getting himself out of his pants, moving a finger into her as an afterthought – she was breathing hard, watching him, trembling, emotional, aching – for him, for him… he wanted her so bad it burned, he wanted to kiss her everywhere, to hold her impossibly tight, to prove they belonged to each other, that she was his, to have her again and again, to prove it, be inside her, make her swear… 

“You want this?”

She nodded eagerly and grabbed his face, kissing him violently, tugging at his hair, but when he moved to enter her she wriggled away. “Wai-wai…” she gasped out, and then she was pushing him back before scooting off of the table and turning around so she was bent over it, her feet off the ground. He sort of gaped at her as she looked at him over her shoulder. “Okay… okay, now…  _ please _ …” 

He set his hands on her hips and stroked the soft skin slowly, hesitating. “...Sweetheart?”

“Now, please –  _ hard _ , Han,  _ hard _ …” 

And then he was inside her, moving hard and fast, his grip on her hips too tight, he knew, movements closer to  _ ramming _ than thrusting – he was groaning, he didn’t often groan – she’d moved from propping herself up on her elbows to bending fully so her face was resting on the table, arms splayed out on it, and still she whimpered, “Harder – faster –  _ please,  _ faster…” and he wasn’t going to disappoint her… the emotional sounds coming from her not quite moans, closer to cries – begging, whimpering, he’d  _ never _ seen her like this, vulnerable, yes, vulnerable, never, crying, “ _ yes _ ,” crying “I love it,” crying “I’m yours…” 

And he moved harder and faster and held tight to her hips and ground out, “You like this?” and she said, “Yes, I swear, oh gods – oh,  _ yes _ …!” 

He shoved himself inside her again and then suddenly they were both spent, breathing hard, slow, and when he moved back from her she stayed there for a moment, her face against the table, her body heaving and trembling, her feet dangling limply. He reached out to touch her and she slowly turned around and kissed him lightly before letting her head rest on his chest, still leaning heavily against the table, still struggling to catch her breath.

He rubbed her back and bit his lip, felt… he didn’t know how he felt… not right, he felt… not great, not… she rarely wanted him to be – rough, like that, with her, and especially not from behind, she rarely… 

“Sweetheart?” he murmured, tipping her chin up so she was looking at him. Her eyes were big, emotional, quivering. Vulnerable, just for him. He sighed heavily. “I love you…” 

“I love you too,” she practically whispered, flicking her eyes downward, and for a single vivid moment he felt viscerally ashamed.

“You… uh.” He bit his lip again and went back to rubbing her back, searching her expression. “Y’alright?”

“Of course,” she breathed. She looked up at him, looking dazed and tired and shaken. Leia, his Leia... “You always make me feel so good.” 

He grunted in agreement and stroked her hair a little as she rested her forehead back against his chest, still breathing heavy. Still feeling – not feeling – not feeling great, with himself. He felt – squirmy, he felt uncomfortable, but he also felt like  _ don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up  _ – giving the top of her head a kiss, holding her a bit tighter – this aftercare more vital than probably almost any ever, why did he feel so  _ bad _ … 

She was still resting against him, unmoving, so soft and tender and fragile in his arms, and he sighed heavily before murmuring, “Should go get Ben…” 

“Yes,” Leia exhaled, untangling herself for him. “Can you? I’d like to shower.”

“Yeah, sure. Sure, princess.” He found himself patting her back, frowning, looking for a sign that things were okay. “I got it.”

“Thank you, Han,” she breathed, and then she was slipping away into the ‘fresher, suddenly gone.

He frowned again and straightened himself up and set his jaw and headed for Luke’s. 

When he was there, Luke’s gentleness made him want to punch something, the way he asked, “How did the appointment go?” all meaningfully, all intense, all compassionate, like  _ mhm, I understand, what it means when both of you go to a doctor’s appointment together. _

“Fine,” he said coolly, scooping up the baby. He was sleepy, post-nap, and snuggled up close to him, cooing  _ daa-aa-aa-aaddy…  _ in the way that made his heart feel tight and full. “He give you any trouble?”

“No trouble, never any trouble. And Leia’s––”

“Like I said, she’s fine. Thanks for watching him.” Ben snuggling closer, pressing his face to his neck, whimpering a little. He rubbed his back soothingly and kissed his hair and held him a bit protectively.  

“Of course. Bye, buddy.”

“Say bye,” Han said halfheartedly, but when Ben just held him tighter, he didn’t push it.

He took the long way back, taking the time to feel how the baby felt in his arms. How much he loved him. How even though he’d been unsure at first now he held him like no problem. How the baby wanted him, maybe not in the same desperate, obsessive way he clinged to Leia, but still – that little voice, his little hands…

And then he palmed back into the unit and there Leia was, seated at their kitchen table, her hair wet, wearing different clothes and surrounded by her work things, buried in some document. Her face tense and rigid and all business, all frozen. Her skin marked up like him. Her eyes – were they rimmed red? Had she – had she been crying in the shower, had she – was she okay – had she thrown up – did she––

She still hadn’t looked up, frowning deeply as she read, and he cleared his throat, stirring Ben just a bit. “Hey kid – look who it is… you miss your Mama?”

That voice again – “Mama?”

Leia looked up, startled, and pasted on a weak smile. “Hello, precious… I missed you. Did you have a good time with your uncle? Did you pass along my best wishes?” Holding out her arms automatically to take him.

Han set his jaw and went over to her, setting the baby on her lap – she kissed his hair and smiled a tired, trying smile. “Hi, ‘loved – hi, do you want to help Mama with her work? Let me see…”

She was tense but “on” for the rest of the evening, going through her routine pleasantly but flatly, timing getting the baby ready for bed to finish just before her nausea kicked in, a spell during wish he took care of the dishes and tidying up, and then kicking the sick quickly enough to tend to him when he inevitably stirred two hours into bedtime, and then he was on duty for the baby so she could get to bed early for the fatigue, and for a selfish moment as he deposited a glass of water beside her before getting into bed beside her, he was thinking,  _ see? We can do this. You can do this.  _

Thinking,  _ We didn’t plan part one and look how well that turned out – when have we ever planned anything – didn’t I just happen to you by accident? Didn’t every good thing come unexpectedly to you? _

And yet, still – the way she was curled up on the side, her trembling back. “Hey…” he muttered, touching her back. “Y’alright there?”

She flinched, really flinched, pressing her face tighter to the pillow. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t sound fine…” He scooted a bit closer to her. “Did I – didn’t hurt you earlier, did I?”

“No, of course not,” she said weakly, her whole body clenched. “That’s so…” 

“Gods, sweetheart – you’re makin’ me nervous.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not!” 

“I’m  _ fine _ , Han.” Her voice almost angry, really angry. “I said I’m fine, and so I’m fine.”

“S’a load of crap.”

“Do you have to have everything?” she snapped. “I don’t have to maintain a specific emotional state at your request!” 

“What the – what are you  _ talking _ …” He inhaled shakily to keep from yelling, trying to think  _ tired, stress, hormones…  _ “I don’t want you to ‘maintain a specific emotional state’, I want you to feel okay because I  _ care  _ about you, sweetheart. Alright?”

“I just…” She seemed genuinely lost for words, her chin wobbling. “I am feeling – tremendous – tremendous pressure right now, both internally but also externally, and…” 

“Kriff, Leia, you make me feel like I’m  _ torturing  _ you…”

“It’s not you – it’s not – I’m just, I’m so tired Han, I’d like to sleep, I…” 

“You know I’d never, ever,” – his heart was racing now, going way and hard – “want you to – do something you didn’t want to – ever,  _ ever _ ––”

“I know that, obviously. Of course, Han.” She was sitting up now, facing him, serious, but all he could see were the marks all over her neck, the uppermost swells of her breasts visible above the neckline of her sweet nightgown – had she been trying to punish herself, had she wanted him to – punish her? He felt sick, he felt sick… “Han, I – I would love to – I love you very much. And I love Ben more than I could ever have imagined. I can’t imagine I would feel differently about any other child.” 

Thinking  _ why was it okay then, why did you go along with this wild card then, do you not want it now because now you know? Because now you know what it is? Could you say yes then because you thought it’d be different, but now that you know what it’s like, you wouldn’t make the same choice?  _ Presenting being a mom at twenty-five as an abstract hypothetical – as if she weren’t one already… 

But that was unfair… 

And he didn’t want to do anything if he wasn’t sure she’d be okay…

Like sex, almost, somehow, what she’d whispered to him once about sex during a short stretch of relative celibacy for them, how before you start it feels okay to decline but once you’ve started, once you’ve started doing it regularly, then it feels like declining is an aggressive – what had she said –  _ repudiation  _ – of every time before? Not as neutral a choice anymore… but every good thing happened to them by accident… not – continuing with a pregnancy (a euphemism, but that’s where he was right now) would’ve been so much more neutral before they had already chosen to keep one, before… would’ve been  _ normal _ , even,  _ likely  _ – he would never have felt like this, if they hadn’t had Ben, surely… 

Pregnant Leia so vulnerable – was she right? Did he like to keep her in a certain state? Did he like her vulnerable? The icy, tough princess vulnerable – the thrill of everyone seeing the hardass general pregnant with  _ his  _ kid? Seeing her in the doctor’s office needing him, wanting him to stay, what kind of sick freak was he, to like that, to like how it felt when she needed him when feeling weak so obviously made her feel so bad… Leia… not a girl but a woman, why was it so easy to say girl when she was so obviously such a  _ woman _ , had become one long before they met,  _ Leia _ … 

“I really haven’t decided anything, Han, I promise,” she was saying, her voice soft and consoling, back in control. “I wouldn’t decide without you,” she soothed. That face twisted in discomfort as the doctor moved the probe to better see their baby,  _ fuck _ … Had she wanted him to punish her? He felt so sick. 

“You sure I didn’t hurt you?” he blurted out, looking at her almost frantically.

“You? Please,” she murmured, kissing his lips quickly and giving him a fond, if manufactured, smile. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are so validating and important to me! Even the quickest ones give me the motivation to keep writing! (And yes, I'll be updating my other two works shortly as well!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last…

By the time the call came he was honestly really fucking grateful for it, if only because it gave him a chance to _act_ on the churning uneasy feelings that had been weighing his head down all morning, making focus impossible and turning him into someone even more irritable and grumpy than usual. He headed over to her work quickly, moved through the building without bothering to “chat” with any of the various New Republic officials who tried to engage him, eager to get to her even if he had no idea what the hell he was going to say.

            Finally he made it to her door, and after giving a few casual raps, he stepped inside. It’d been awhile since he’d been inside her tiny base office, and what surprises him now was how — unchanged it looked, still sparse and without decoration or any sentimental tokens. He hovered in the doorway, frowning. The place felt as cold as he remembered.

Leia looked up at him from the floor and gave him a quizzical look before lifting a finger — one second — and returning to her comm, presumably, he figured, to wrap up the conversation, but it wasn’t in Basic so he couldn’t quite tell. He took a moment to look around the room, look her over a bit, Kirin’s anxious words still replaying in his mind — “I’ve heard her crying all morning? And I think retching — I think she might be sick?” The hand not holding the comm was kneading her lower back vigorously, and she was seated cross legged in the middle of the floor, surrounded by two datapads she kept cupping the comm with her shoulder to flip through plus all kinds of baby detritus. Ben was in her lap, one hand coiled tight around a lock of her hair, the other holding his sippie cup to his lips, purposefully peering at a brightly colored but upside down board book. That portable crib thing was set up in the corner, whatever it was called, one of Han’s shirts curiously draped over the side, and Ben’s favorite toys were scattered all over the floor. The unused desk piled high with paperwork, the shelves bare other than one small holocube. He strode over to it and picked it up idly. The images were all over her parents, from their fancy royal wedding and with her as a baby, laughing together. He sighed and set the cube down.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about that,” she said suddenly, her voice polite and apologetic. “Is everything okay?”

He sat down near her, careful not to crush anything. “Brought you lunch,” he said in a voice he hoped was casual.

She looked at him, confused. “Don’t you have work…?”

“I skipped out — they’ve got my full attention 24/7 next week when we ship out. Can do without me for an afternoon.”

“To bring me lunch..?” He watched as Ben turned to face her and used her torso to wrestle himself into standing before patting her cheeks and babbling seriously to her — she spoke back softly, smiling but distracted, autopilot mothering, “yes, I know, I know!”

“Yeah, well.” He frowned a little as he admitted, “Kirin called me and said you weren’t doing so hot, so. I figured I would come check in on you, take Ben if you needed.”

Her expression was all diplomat, Unreadable. “Kirin called you?”

“Yeah, she said you were throwing up a ton, so…”

“Well,” Leia said with a polite smile, “I hardly think that’s exceptional, given the circumstances — she just doesn’t know.”

He shifted uncomfortably. Sometimes he wished he was better at lying to her, could just scope out her mood easily without admitting that he was doing so, but she could always read him so fast. “And — crying a lot, or somethin’.”

Leia raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly, unphased as Ben smushed her cheeks a bit and tugged on her hair, pulling the baby into a gentle hug without thought and fingering his dark hair. “That’s what she told you?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual again, looking away as her eyes bore into him, “Yeah, so, I figured I’d check up on you and, you know, see if I could join you for lunch or whatever. Make things easier with the ba—with Ben. Since you’re probably tired and all.”

“She told you I was crying.”

“Yeah, she was — pretty worried.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “And I know you were kinda on edge last night, so—“

“I wasn’t on edge really, I was just – sore,” she protested lightly, and he cringed. He was pretty eager to forget their unsettling — encounter, on the kitchen table two days ago, and never think about it again. Last night, how when he went to spoon her she’d jerked and murmured, _I’m sorry but I’m still quite sore_ as if somehow the move to be close to her meant he was signaling a plan to take her hard – what did she think of him? Who did he think he was, pinning her down with his elbow hard on her back and growling _Tell me you love it, tell me you need it?_ Leia who was a princess.

“Yeah, well. Either way. Lunch?”

“Yes,” she said, and she smiled at him faintly. “Thank you. That was thoughtful of you, to come.”

“Can take him so you can have hands—“

“That’d be wonderful — Ben, honey, come on now, go to Daddy…” she began, trying to detangle the two of them, but he protested loudly and clung to her even more tightly, burrowing into her lap and against her breasts, and she sighed and gave an apologetic smile. “He’s going to go down for his nap in a few minutes, so he’s getting cranky…” He watched, sort of awestruck, as she easily ate the salad he’d brought her with her nondominant hand, her right one stroking Ben’s hair and back as if on its own accord. She made it look so easy, this crazy balance — how could she be so certain she couldn’t do it again?

"Brought you some painkillers too, if you don’t have them here. Figured your kaffe headache’s probably killing you.”

 “I took some already. But thank you.” She gave him another genuine smile.

“You really spend all day here on the floor?” he asked skeptically.

“For the past few months, since he’s become mobile. It’s nice, I always wanted to take calls while playing with blocks. I take it you don’t enjoy it?”

“Not as flexible as you, apparently.

“Hmm. Pitfalls of marrying older men.” Ben started yanking frustratedly towards her braids, and she deftly adjusted so that instead his little hands were gripping his thumbs, then swung them playfully as she spoke to him. “Oh, you’re sleepy… yes, I know. You’re sleepy and your mother is especially cozy because of the fat she’s incurred recently and you’d like to curl up right here but I’m telling you, honey, again, unless you want a datapad on your head when you nap you ought to sleep in your spot…”

He sighed heavily. “Sweetheart, you’re not––”

"No, it’s––”   Ben let out a particularly angry whine, though, his legs kicking, and she grabbed them. “Cherie, sh-sh-sh-sh, no kicks, we said no kicks, especially abdominal, your days in there are over, cede the space…”

Han laughed a little, and she smirked at him before returning her attention to the baby, who kept squirming angrily. “Yes, I know. I know, I know, let’s go to sleep. Yes. You’ll be so much less self-centered thereafter I’m sure.” She looked up at Han from her spot on the floor. “If you have a minute, you could get the lights for me?”

“Sure,” he said, going over to flick them.

“See?” she was saying to Ben, helping him out of his shoes. “See? We’re going to rest now. Sh-sh. I know. We go sleep.”

“ _Gweep_?”

“Go sleep, yes…”

“Deedee Ma _ma_ …”

“Mm, I know you want your deedee – Han, can you grab the shirt from the––”

“The… what?”

“The shirt. Over––” She went to point, but Ben cried out and grabbed her hand again and she laughed a little and conceded, kissing his hair.

He let the room fade into darkness then went over and grabbed the shirt of his he’d seen earlier, sitting back down across from them. “This?”

“Ye-es, thank you.” She took the shirt, and the baby immediately wrapped himself in it clumsily, rubbing the cuff under his nose and hiding his face a little.

“S’that?”

“This shirt of yours, it’s how we signal naptime here, it calms him down… if you give me five minutes, he’ll get down in a second and then we can talk, okay?”

He felt himself flush with a bit of confidence as he watched Ben nuzzle the shirt seriously, wrapped in it and curled tight against his mother. Gods, he loved them. Gods, Leia was such a good mother. “Sure. Yeah.”

“Thank you,” she said, and the smile she gave him was very kind.  

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it was a perfect, sweet surprise when she laid down on the floor curled up gently on her side, fitting the baby close against her, facing her, so he could hold onto the front of her shirt with one hand. “Sh-sh…” Rubbing his back until he put his thumb in his mouth, still rubbing the shirt’s cuff under his nose softly, and stopped squirming, just stared up at her as if in a kind of awe, blinking sleepily. She was stroking his hair, too, and singing lightly… “ _Dites-moi… pourqoui… la vie est belle…_ ”

He couldn’t stop looking at her. Leia may have had serious, serious post-partum depression – may have as in, to start a sentence, not as in he was questioning this, he knew it to be true, regardless of her denialism – but never in that three-month haze had her almost slavish devotion to their son wavered. In fact, that had sort of been the _problem_ – that she thought any desire for help or unhappiness made her a horrible person, a horrible mother… So he never knew how to interpret scenes like this. On the one hand, who was more dedicated to being a parent than her? Turning her office into a nursery, spending all day sitting on the floor, lying down beside him on the carpet and cuddling him into a nap, singing. Was that something he should love her for? He loved watching this… loved how Ben looked so safe and content as he looked up at her, loved how she dreamily rubbed his back and looked at ease. But on the other hand, was it a cry for help or some shit – _look how much I can do on my own, look the lengths I’ll go to be supermom, look how ragged I’ll run myself, lying here without a pillow, look how much of myself I’ll give up?_

That old Rebel mindset. General Leia indeed.

He took a chance, decided to stretch his arms, yawn, and lie down on his side opposite her, not touching her, just the baby, but with his face close to hers. Halves of a whole. Listening to her sing, her low voice, looking right at her. _Est-ce que… parce que… vous m’aimez?_

He wasn’t sure what he expected from her. Maybe a small smile, a blush. Instead she looked away, unreadable, and scooped the baby up at the end of the song and set him gently in the pack and play and then sitting – more like collapsing – against it with her legs splayed out, sighing.

“Hey,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Hey.”

She sighed again, then lifted up her blouse. “S’what I meant,” she said in a low voice, looking up at the ceiling. He stared – barely visible with her shirt down, but yes, she was showing, just a little. “Because it’s the second, I suppose, even though.” She shut her eyes. “Even though it seems early.” And dropped her shirt.

He had sat up, and nodded slow, trying to catch her eyes, but he couldn’t. “Sweetheart,” he said in a low voice.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, her eyes squeezed shut tight, her voice getting increasingly more frantic. “I don’t know what to do. My thoughts feel so muddled, I don’t feel as though I can think rationally. And you’re shipping out next week and I just want this taken care of before then but I don’t even know what I mean by that. And I’ve spent forty-eight hours wondering––”

“Hey-hey-hey,” he said in a hushed voice, mindful of the sleeping baby but frowning deeply. He couldn’t help it, something inside him, making him just want to hold her, make her calm and sweet and alright… “C’mere, don’t panic… wondering what?”

“Ha! Don’t panic…” She covered her face with her hands.

“Come over here, baby. C’mere.”

She shook her head for a second, looking mortified, then crawled over to him and let him hold her, not touching him back but not moving away from his grasp.

“You’re only speaking to me in this way because I’m p-pregnant. You’re babying me…” she mumbled, her face flushing with embarrassment.

“Leia… baby… it’s gonna be okay…”

“I don’t trust my feelings, what if my feelings are just a hormonal byproduct rather than my true instinct… I’m so tired, I’m so alone, I––”

"Not alone. Hey. Not alone. Wondering what?”

“Wondering why it felt so good to be treated so poorly?” she said quietly, staring at the wall. “Wondering why you enjoyed so much making me hurt?”

“Hey. No. No-no,” he said, utterly horrified, jerking up abruptly and grabbing her forearms so she had to look at him. “No. Never. What the fuck?”

“Making me under your control, then – why I liked feeling abject, I—”

“I would never want to hurt you. Ever. That – sex thing, that was – nothing, stupid, you – _hurting_ you?”

“You wanted me to say what you wanted me to say. You wanted me to feel like I couldn’t move. To feel small, and ugly, because you were mad at me.”

“ _Stop that._ What the fuck? What?”

“Quiet, please––”

“I didn’t – _what_?”

“And _I_ wanted to feel small, and ugly, because I felt small, and ugly, because I thought I _deserved_ your being mad at me, and you agreed––”

“ _Stop it,_ ” he hissed. “No. I love you. I love you. Lei, it’s just sex, it was some stupid…”

“And I am really quite scared because Han, I truly believe that my masochistic impulse come from the fact that I know truly, in my heart––”

“Some stupid kinky––”

“And you know, somewhere deep inside of you, which is why you wanted to enact your anger at me––”

“ _Stop._ ”

“Because we both know that surely there is something very wrong with me for only wanting to cry when I think of having another child right now. Very wrong. Very, very wrong.” She pulled away so she was looking directly at him, and he was shocked to see that she appeared completely serious. “Han, I’m really… I really think there’s something wrong inside of me.”

“Slow down. Okay? Kriff, Leia, slow the hell down,” he said, grabbing hold of her hands. “There’s not a thing wrong with you. Holy hells. Not a thing. Look, last time was hard on you, Ben’s just turned one – it’s _soon_ , for another kid, okay, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

She was actually quivering, and he figured the surge of hormones had really gotten to her by this point. “I really think there is, Han. I don’t…. I don’t often think of… but…” She couldn’t finish her sentence but he got her meaning immediately – _Vader?_

“Stop it. That’s crazy talk. Kriff, Leia, alright, _I’m_ nervous, okay, I’m nervous too, okay, fuck, I––”

“You _are_ nervous because you _think_ it’s going to happen.”

He frowned, momentarily caught off guard. “… what?”

She was nodding her head rapidly, and for not the first time he thought about how small she was, her tiny features, her pronounced, pale bones. “You think we’re going to have another child. This child,” she clarified.  

He looked at her carefully and hesitated before saying, “M’not assuming anything.”

“You think I have fears and if you assuage them, we’ll have another child. This – this is the default setting and if we can overcome our anxieties and get a nanny and take Mon up on Chief of Staff rather than diplomacy, if I can be convinced to monitor my blood pressure – I know what I felt, Han. I know what I _felt_ , on his birthday, when I realized, and it was total…” She shut her eyes, then said, articulating each syllable with precision. “Total, utter, devastated horror.”

He exhaled noisily and nodded.

“And that’s why I know,” she continued, eyes open but not looking at him, very careful, “That something is wrong. In here, in me. I know I sound silly, but…”

“There’s nothing wrong with you if you want an abortion, Leia,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to mask his frustration, and she visibly jerked at the words before covering her face with her hands again. “Princess. C’mon. You _know_ that. For Kriff’s sake…”

“ _Yes there is,_ ” she hissed, suddenly very firm. “Maybe those thoughts are acceptable when you’re fighting a war and you’ve only been seeing someone for a handful of weeks but not when you’re married and _certainly_ not when you already have another baby.”

“That’s fuckin’ ridiculous,” he snapped. “M’not gonna listen to you say you’re being held hostage when you’re not – no one is forcing you to do anything, _told_ you I’ll support you no matter what––”

“I worry that if I don’t have it I will be conceding to my own weakness,” she murmured. “I’ll be saying I’m too cowardly and selfish to do so. That if I could I would prefer to put everything else first other than children and that my convenience is more important than everything else there is – and what does that say about Ben, how can I possible hold him and think I would discard him were I to get a particularly plump assignment––”

“But you _had_ him, sweetheart, seven hells – and I don’t like this talk that havin’ kids is some big giant sacrifice on whose behalf, mine? S’fucked up––”

“It _is_ a sacrifice,” she said, too loud, staring at him as if completely in shock. “I sacrificed almost _everything_ to have him – my sense of ownership over my body, my ability to be taken seriously, my clear-headedness, my health, the privacy of my mind, nearly my life. I sacrifice _constantly_ for Ben. Have you seen me move through the world in the past, what, one year and nine months? Have you seen how people speak to me? Do you see that there are spit-out bits of cereal in my hair right now? Do you not remember that I was formally chastised the first time I ever nursed in committee – and these are thoughts I _despise_ myself for having, that make me feel ugly and ungrateful and _evil_ , my sense of injury is a _hideous_ thing about me, but still, no one can say I haven’t sacrificed––”

"Well fuck that about being evil because you know that’s utter bantha shit and you know what, if it’s been so devastating for you what’s the damn point?”

“ _Because I love you, obviously! I love you both!”_ And then Ben was up, and beginning to cry, and she covered her face in her hands one last time before jumping up and going to scoop up the baby, revealing herself to have begun to cry as she did so.

“Sweetheart––” he warned as she lifted him up with effort.

 “I’ll hold my son as much as I please, thank you,” she snapped before descending into sniffles, holding the baby close and bouncing him, murmuring into his hair, something like _I know, I’m sorry, Mama’s so sorry._ Yes, now he could hear her clearly: “Mama didn’t mean it, I know, I’m sorry, I know I know…”

He wanted to get up and pull her into his arms but he felt soldered to his spot on the floor. That thing was happening, that hadn’t been as much recently but was there sometimes, where he could see their emotions cross-reference – she was weepy and now the baby was too, no more crying out in frustration, just tears and a trembling lip, like her.

“I know… sh-sh, I’m so sorry, I… oh, don’t be sad, please let me be sad for both of us… shhh… where’s your––” She leaned down and rifled around for the shirt of Han’s, then used it to wipe the baby’s eyes, then her own. “I’ll be sad for both of us, how does that sound?” He couldn’t stop watching. She soothed and soothed, and sang, and stroked, and soon the baby was content to clutch her and coo.

“It’ll be fine, Han,” she said after a long while, her voice soft and patient. “It’ll be okay. I can do this, I promise.” He watched her ghost the hand that wasn’t holding the baby to her hip over her abdomen and shudder a bit before steeling herself. “I promise, I’ll be alright this time. I really will. It will be nice to do everything better.”

He was up, then, shaking his head before he knew what he was doing. “Stop it. Fuck. Don’t make it seem like anyone wants you to fuckin’ – martyr yourself to having kids or something.”

“The thing is, is that the things we decided to give up we gave up already. If that makes sense. I wouldn’t change anything, and having another baby won’t change anything, it will only––” She was blinking back tears and choking a little but trying to force a smile. “––make our lives fuller, and more joyful, surely? I have to believe...”

He put his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head, said nothing. Knew what she meant. She would never be not-Mommy ever again. What she had mentioned to him offhandedly a few days ago – _If I have two, though, where will I put them at work?_

_Probably about time by then to put Ben in daycare, right?_

_I didn’t have a child to have someone else raise him. And given how frequently we move? That’d be borderline traumatic, absolutely not._

_Could always move less._

_… Even still. My mother never would put_ me _in daycare._

  _Your mother was the queen of the planet, Lei. Plus she worked from home._

_I mean, yes, but––_

_If you want to be in the same place as ‘em always, either they gotta be able to be with you or you have to be with them, right? Even if it’s just Ben._

_My mother was able to work from home because she was the queen, like you said. She could organize the world around her. I can’t do that – I wouldn’t be able to do real work at home. Trying to coordinate things during my maternity leave was a nightmare…_

_I mean, goes without sayin’ but you don’t_ have _to work. If you don’t want to._

 _Of course I have to work._ She’d stared at him, horrified. _How could you say that? Of course I have to work._

_Like moneywise an’ all that, s’what I meant._

_It’s not about money, it’s about a cause to which I’ve committed my entire life._

_Right. That._

And then they’d gotten into a fight about daycare, how kids need other kids (him), how it wasn’t a real life for a kid, to be a toddler cooped up in an office with only his mom for a playmate every day (also him), and she’d done a _How are we going to ensure adequate childcare wherever we are, though, until he starts school? Take this outpost – how can I possibly ensure a sufficient daycare there? The places that human rights work brings me to aren’t teeming with stimulating play and safe environments_ and he’d stared at her like _hmmmm, maybe the answer is in the question_ as in – hey, princess, you have a kid now, you can’t pick your life up every six months, or settle down in the most poverty-stricken place, or ensure that your kid only interacts with adults forever, it isn’t fair to him, eventually you have to pick. She knew that, and he knew that.

What she was trying to say, then: that even without another baby none of that would change. This wasn’t sustainable, something had to give eventually. The deadline she’d given herself, the one he knew of – her thirtieth birthday, when Ben would start school – would come eventually. And Ben would be more than just something they could bring in their backpack long before then.

Why not go all in? As he held her, he tried to imagine it – buying a house somewhere with Leia – clothes for Ben weren’t hand-me-downs – holos on the walls – her pregnant, Ben walking, it seemed rosy but also… strange. Not them. Even if they did do all that, there were parts that didn’t fit – the Falcon, all of Leia’s languages, what was the point of all those finely-tuned skills if they never were used again? They couldn’t settle so easily, or if they could, it wasn’t yet, wasn’t right now. There was still too much to do.

He wanted Ben to have everything – the whole easy, normal childhood he never had. Except part of that that didn’t work was that he had them for parents, and they’d never been fond of being easy, or normal.

 “What about if we wait,” he found himself saying into her hair.

 She looked up at him, wiping her eyes a bit. “What?”

“Just like… give it a few more years, huh?” He stroked her braids slowly. “Give the galaxy a little more time to get its shit together.” _Give you a little more time to live a life you want, that you choose._  

“Oh, alright. I’ll just tell this one to halt its progress,” she said, rolling her eyes but fond.

“You know what I mean.”

She bit her lip. “There’s still a lot now that isn’t ideal, though.”

“Yeah, but we can work it out, alright? One thing at a time. Can figure out how to keep the toddler out of trouble while you manage refugee crises without layering pre-eclampsia and all that on top of it.”

“Han…”

“And if that set-up involves stay-at-home dad, s’not the worst thing in the world,” he added, winking at her.

She laughed in spite of herself. “The Force has made me much too selfish, I think I’d go crazy worrying about him almost killing himself on the Falcon all day…”

“We’ll find something where you won’t go crazy. Alright?”

She gave a small, hesitant nod. “Later, though. I do want to, later.”

“Sure, absolutely. Tellin’ you, once you hit thirty you’re gonna have way less patience for all this do-gooder shit. Gonna be too tired all the time to be idealistic.”

“Might as well pop out some babies then to pass the time and ward off ennui?” she murmured, smiling a little.

“Yeah, an’ that way we’re only doing one set of diapers at a time. Plus Ben won’t be clinging to you every five seconds. Ideally. He’ll be a little more independent”

“As will the galaxy, I hope,” she murmured, her face looking something like – at ease.

“It will. ‘Cause it’ll have the best of ‘em right at the helm in its early years, alright? Promise.”

“Okay,” she said, and he saw her talk a deep breath and let out the one he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Fuck that, thank _you_. Kriff, Leia.” He tipped up her chin, made sure she could see he was serious. “You’ve given me everything.”

On the day when she had it done he took off work and made a big show of pampering her afterwards – all laying out the pajamas he knew she liked the most and stocking the bathroom with the pads she preferred and making them both spiked hot chocolate. Got Ben good and tired, too, in the morning, so by the time he brought her back home he was sleepy and sweet, all quiet _“Mama… Mama…_ ” and messily kissing her cheek when prompted, his newest skill.

Got her in the pajamas and into bed, put the heating pad behind her back, got in bed beside her, the baby napping in between them. Watched bad holofilms and drank quietly and held hands, the two of them. In a few days, he would ship out for some intelligence work on a terrorist cell systems away, and she’d get up at dawn to say goodbye with the baby before dressing them both and heading to work. When he’d comm her, he’d say _Hey Ben, you lookin’ after your mom, kiddo?_ and he’d hear her prompting _That’s daddy, say hi daddy, say I love you._ Hear the garbled coo – _Iluvoo._ Laugh.

When he’d chat with her about her day, she’d talk about the doctor’s appointment she’d had earlier, the implant that was meant to be a better model this time. _It’s five years,_ she’d say, smiling faintly. _Seems like a lifetime away, but…_

 _Seems like just enough time to me,_ he’d say. _Five years? Yeah._

 _It’s on my calendar,_ she’d joke.

 _Good,_ he’d say genuinely. _Can’t wait._

_For all the fun that goes into the making-of?_

_For everything,_ he’d say, and he’d mean it, totally serious. _For everything, everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s all she wrote, folks. Wow, this was exhausting but I’m glad I finished it. What did you think?

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are like a stable sense of identity and total confidence in your choices.


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